Zen and the Art of Birdwatching

After many years of attempting to watch birds, sometimes succeeding, often times not, I began to notice patterns. Things that happened time and time again. I had always considered my passion for birds the true path to enlightenment, and then one fine day at Cape May, I believe I achieved it. Things came into focus and I understood that all parts of birding are intertwined, the successes and the failures, the joys and frustrations. It was with this in mind, and the desire to help fellow birders on their journey to enlightenment, that I present the following words of wisdom.

1) The greatest bird repellant in the world is a pair of binoculars.

Just try walking out of the house one day without them and count the number of times you really wanted them. But, the minute you hang them around your neck, there is not a feather in sight!

2) Birds recognize the sound of a spotting scope being set up. I also believe that they all can count to three. A beautiful bird will be sitting there, posing for you, and you try everything possible to get your scope set up quickly and quietly. But, the minute that third tripod leg hits the ground…POOF! It’s off with the next breeze.

   3 )Birds love to play hide and seek. Who hasn’t been out on a walk, heard a bird, found the movement in the tree, gotten their binoculars on it quickly, only to find just a tail feather or beak sticking out from behind a leaf. Red-Eyed Vireos are the all time champs at hide-and-seek. I even think their call sounds like “see me…here I am..nope…not there….here I am…over here….” This also has to do with why all the really colorful warblers leave the area when the leaves come down. The game is over for another season.

   4) Pishing really doesn’t work. Many of you have been on bird walks and heard leaders attempt to “pish” up some birds. Well, they’re really not attracting them. The birds just like to come up and see the funny faces people make while pishing.

5) Birds watch us as much as we watch them. I am constantly amazed at how close birds come to people out on walks. I really believe that Chickadees, Titmice, Nuthatches and Kinglets have formed a National Birder-Watching Society. They probably keep life lists and get extra points for up close and personal identification.

    6) There are four necessities to successful bird watching. One is a sense of wonder and curiosity. You must want to go out and look for the birds. The second is a good pair of binoculars. Binoculars are the tool of the trade. I always empathize with people who attempt to bird watch with binoculars that just don’t fit, or aren’t geared toward birding. The third is a good field guide, one for our area that you have taken the time to familiarize yourself with. One that employs paintings instead of photographs. The fourth is a “bird buddy,” someone with whom to share the elation the hobby brings. Birding is certainly something you can do on your own, but, as with most good things in life, is better when shared.

     7) Birders are a community unto themselves, where the only prerequisite is shared interest. We all are constantly learning and teaching. Even novice birders comment on how helpful other birders are and how knowledge and information are so freely and gladly shared.

     8) Birders are a breed apart. Who else would be standing on a wind blown beach, at 6:30 a.m., half-freezing to death with binoculars and scopes trained on the horizon trying to decide whether the birds hundreds of yards out to sea are black or surf scoters?

   9) The amount and variety of birds seen is equal to or greater than the amount of time spent looking. Face it, the longer you look, the more you’ll see. But, it’s not quite that simple. I believe that the longer you’re looking, the better you’re looking. You become more attuned to your surroundings and notice more birds.

    10)  Last, but not least, birds can’t read. No matter how many field guides and behavior guides you commit to memory, there is a bird out there prepared to make a fool of you. Birds that aren’t supposed to be in one place invariably are. Birds that shouldn’t be doing that, do. Basically, birds are wild animals and do what they want when they want. Learn to live with it. Or to borrow a line from that previous list, if the birds disagree with the books, BELIEVE THE BIRDS.

I’ve got a secret

Walking around my yard this afternoon, I looked up. Well, that’s what people who look at birds do. Scan the sky and the treetops and see what is around. I catch a dark form sky surfing through the Cirrus clouds, one that my experience and lots of trial and error (mostly error) allows me to pin the title accipter to. Lifting my binoculars to my eyes (yes I had them with me, as I do all the time. Doesn’t everyone?) I see the almost headless form of a bird of prey most commonly called a Sharp Shinned Hawk. “Sharpies” are the birds of prey most backyard bird feeders encounter, especially as the weather turns cooler. You see, accipters by trade are songbird hunters. Their shorter rounder wings and long rudder like tail allow them to chase and catch songbirds.  And they do so with great success, as the species survival attests. This particular Sharp Shinned Hawk was not on the hunt however; the Chickadees and Titmice in the yard were busy scurrying around going about the business of being Chickadees and Titmice. No, this hawk was just out for an early winter’s fly. Soaring on thermals and banking with the wind. In fact, he looked like he was having fun.

As I watched this hawk, I wondered, does anyone else see this bird? Is anyone else sharing this moment with me? Or is this just a moment for the Sharpie and I?  A command performance? I think not….Sharpies are not the kind of bird you command around. A private moment? I believe so….I was not standing on a ridge or hawk watch platform amidst a cadre of other birders during peak migration. Just a wonderful Sharp Shinned Hawk and I, watching his effortless circling. Now, I know that the Sharpie couldn’t know I was there, and if it did, couldn’t care less. But, at that moment, that snap shot in my memory, I was privy to something special.  I found myself guarding it jealously. Savoring each moment of observation, watching so intently I can see the hawk shrug his shoulders and bank steeply left. I didn’t want anyone else to be seeing this. I wanted this to be my moment. Mine and the high flying Sharp Shinned Hawk enjoying his winter constitutional. I must have watched this bird for ten minutes.  I could swear he was showing off. Every now and then the Sharpie would put on a burst of speed, the kind of acceleration that closes the gap between predator and prey and insures one’s survival and one’s demise.  The slow long turns accentuated by quick changes in direction. It is no wonder that we humans, helplessly tethered to the ground, have long admired and often times worshiped birds of prey. Such mastery of the sky is something to be admired and respected. As I watched this hawk, I thought about the literally thousands of Sharp Shinned Hawks I have seen over the years. And, you know what, I was still in just as much awe, was just as excited and enjoyed this particular Sharpie as much as any of them. If not perhaps more. This was just a special treat. One that I was lucky enough to see because I looked up. Just glancing around the skies, taking an avian inventory as it were.  Jealously guarding my secret, reveling in the fact that, in my mind, I was the only one who saw this and it made me smile.